


Basil

by LittleToast



Category: Original Work
Genre: Churches & Cathedrals, F/M, Gen, Male Character of Color, Missing Persons, Plants, Prophetic Dreams, Psychic Abilities, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleToast/pseuds/LittleToast
Summary: I didn’t feel completely comfortable in believing that traveling with a plant could help to find a missing person, but since I was already in the backseat with a flowerpot containing a basil seedling by my side, all I could do was wish for the better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I ever wrote in english since it's not my mother tongue, so any feedback would be very appreciated, even if original works don't have much visibility. 
> 
> It's just the transcription of a dream I had a couple years ago.

When I heard her story, I couldn’t help to ask myself about how many people could be in the same situation, being punished only because they were brave enough to do the right thing. I admired a picture on the newspaper and concluded that her appearance isn’t very different from mine, maybe just a bit taller. She had no physical strenght, movie-like gadgets or superhero powers, but counted with her own bravery to do her best and investigate the right people. She was a judge who dismantled a criminal empire and, ironically, was paying for that. In the end, she was being hunted and her enemies wanted her to confront her own mortality. Since she was reported missing, only a few people knew she had disappeared because she wanted to, but dealing with a situation like hers, it would never be known when some days off looking for temporary peace could be changed into a complete disaster.

Because of the need to predict unpredictable events, her family contacted us. We were less than particular detectives, with no glamour or even good things said about us. The only thing we could offer was a supposed connection with supernatural events that made the skeptical ones laugh at our faces. But this time, it was different. The Judge’s family not only needed our help, but actually believed we could do something to find the missing woman. Psychic since childhood, my mother always had a strong connection with the earth and every living thing that inhabited the ground. Due to this factor, we never needed to enter the house to look for personal objects or clues about The Judge. All the answers were outside, right there in the garden, more precisely in a basil seedling. The Judge would use it to communicate with her family. It had to be taken to all the places she used to stay or visit, including work places and even the mass that was celebrated at the only church of the city. If the basil was still alive in the end of the day, it would be a sign that she would be alive too.

I admit that I always understood when we weren’t trusted or just called quacks. I didn’t feel completely comfortable in believing that traveling with a plant could help to find a missing person, but since I was already in the backseat with a flowerpot containing a little basil by my side, all I could do was wish for the better. Closed my eyes and what I imagined to be just a second for relaxing became a light sleep filled of nonsensical dreams. A wooden house, a dark blue car with a plate full of sixes and nines. Tiny pieces of shattered glass raining over me, and a sudden fear that seemed to freeze my bones. I woke up to the sound of my mother’s voice telling my father the next stop would be at the office where The Judge worked. The city was kinda big, but very modest. Over our heads, an orange sunlight gave the place an impression of eternal sunset. The roads were pure dry soil, the red dust matching the light that made everybody and everything hot and thirsty. The places we needed to go seemed to be hours away one from another, and the old engine of our car made us think the roads were longer than really were. I closed my eyes again when we were entering on a cold, gray bridge, and had the feeling that the blue car just passed us, too close to be a dream.

The so called office was nothing more than a simple house, not so different from the other houses on the same street, with a little fence covered by vines and a small garden. The only thing that made the house stand out was the front wall, entirely made of glass. Heavy curtains protected the insides from curious looks. We entered on the house/office and everything seemed to be untouched after a day of work. The variety of picture frames placed over the furniture amazed me in a certain way. While looking to one of the many pictures, I noticed something happening on the garden.

A blue car, as old as ours, was parked in front of the house. Somehow it had ignored the little fence and stopped over the garden. So close. Hiding behind the curtains, I carefully approached the glass wall to have a better view of what was going on outside. When I read the license plate of the car, the same sinister combination of sixes and nines made me feel a shiver down my spine. All the fear I felt while dreaming became ten times worse, only because this time everything was real. I moved away slowly and grabbed my father’s wrist.

― They’re going to open fire on the house.

As I ended my phrase, a hail of bullets brought down the front wall. We threw ourselves on the ground, trying to survive by merging into a cloud of dust and pieces of broken glass. Paralyzed from fear, I heard more shooting, but they weren’t aimed on the house anymore. All I could think about was the little basil inside the car. Since bullets are capable of taking human lives and destroying everything, I couldn’t imagine what they could do with a poor seedling. On the ground, all the picture frames were around me, with broken glasses or damaged frames. A picture of a smiling Judge faced me, half buried on pieces of shattered glass. People, plants, it just didn’t matter. In the end, all lives were equally fragile.

The car had been destroyed, but happily the majority of the shots were aimed to the tires and the engine. Opening the door and feeling it getting crooked, I picked the flowerpot from the backseat. A bit of earth fell on my dress, but I just didn’t care. I already had pieces of broken glass on my hair and crimson droplets of blood staining my homemade blue dress, my appearance was nothing to worry about. Under my mother’s pleads, I gave the basil for her to look. Even if she said it was alright, I could see it getting weaker. With nothing left to do, we sat on the garden, admiring the total chaos that had been a beautiful house not so long ago. That vision left no doubts, we were being hunted, just like The Judge. And those who hunted her were powerful enough to give eyes and ears with sharp senses to the most unsuspecting walls.

A police car appeared after a couple minutes, probably attending to the calls made by the people who lived nearby and heard the gunshots. The Police Officer, a very tall and rather young black guy, had mercy on us and offered a ride after hearing our version of what had happened. Very grateful, we accepted the offer and now we were four ― five if the basil seedling counted as a person, since it was representing The Judge. The Police Officer driving, my father on the passenger seat and the backseat completely occupied by me, my mother and the flowerpot.

Thinking it would be safer this way, we decided that during the rest of our travel I’d be inside the car with the Police Officer, taking care of the flowerpot. Apparently, everything was going better than expected, but a certain question couldn’t get out of my mind. The shooting had happened just like in my dream, but not on the same house. Maybe my predictions were just coincidences. Anyone can dream of a shooting and call it a prediction because somewhere in the world, there will be a shooting. 

However, as we got closer to the second place we had to visit, I realized that maybe my predictions weren’t completely useless. It was the same wooden house from my dream. I looked again to the little basil, but couldn’t be sure if it was really more wilted than before or my pessimistic view was making me see the things worse than they really were. I jumped a little when heard the door opening and the police officer coming to the car. I was so distracted before that I didn’t even realize that I was alone.

― I’m sure they had been here before. Look at the marks on the grass.

I got up to see what he was talking about. The grass was compressed in a pattern that really looked like tire marks. In a second, everything that could have happened came to my mind. We would be caught in an ambush right when we got inside, and nobody would have a chance to survive. The wooden house would be the background of a massacre. The house, the shooting, the breaking glass. Two of the three factors from my dream would happen in an inevitable way, and one could be changed. Maybe my predictions came all messed up like this.

The hours were passing and the visits were becoming nothing more than a waste of time. All the places we’ve been seemed to hide everything even from my mother’s sensitivity. Even if I was sitting most of the time, I started feeling tired again. Even afraid of what my dreams could show, I closed my eyes, only to find myself inside the car that was parked outside of the church. I left the basil alone on the backseat and tried to reach my parents since I didn’t want to be left behind. The Mass had already started and with some difficulty I got a seat next to my parents that were sitting next to The Judges parents. I couldn’t concentrate on the speech, something was making it very difficult. Over the altar, the body of the holy child was the only thing that captured my attention.

Son or daughter of one of the city founders, the holy child had died of a disease many years ago, but was considered a miracle due to the corpse never decomposing. Locked inside a glass case, it was kept inside the church and was the only reason that made people visit that little city without touristic spots or any atractiveness. The speech was coming to an end and all the attendants were going to stand up to receive the blessings. A movement on the nearest window caught my attention and in a second, many things happened at once. The attendants stood up. At the lancet window, I saw the barrel of a gun. A shot, the beginning of chaos, the end of a life. The bullet was aimed right on The Judge’s mother head. 

Suddenly, I opened my eyes and saw myself alone in the car, but unlike my dream, the mass hasn’t started yet. Running a little, I reached my parents and sat beside them, explaining that I left the little basil inside the car because it would be safer. Everything was happening normally, but my head was a total mess. The church, the shot, the aim. I had all three factors from my dream and could change only one. Even if I had to take drastic measures and risk my own life. As the blessing speech started, I felt a lump on my throat. My attention was focused on the nearest lancet window. At the first sign of movement, I’d put myself between the aim and the bullet. It was the only way to save her. How ironic, I thought. Of course it had to be during the blessing speech. Maybe this is the only blessing I deserve. 

All the attendants standing. The speech coming to an end. A fast movement on the window and I didn’t think twice. At the same moment, I threw myself in front of The Judge’s mother and heard the sound of a shot that never hit me. The chaos was installed. Some people were running towards the door, some were paralyzed, a third group laid on the floor. I couldn’t figure out what was happening at all and when I looked at the window searching for any explanation, I could see my savior. The Police Officer still holding his gun, the smoke coming out of the barrel and dissipating in the air. He shot dead the person who was at the window before anything could happen. I ran to embrace him on a tight hug.

― H-how? ― Tears were streaming down my face, expressing my relief like no words could.

― You should know that you talk in your sleep. ― His hand caressed the top of my head and I never felt so comforted in my whole life.  
Due to the mess that everything has became, we couldn’t do much more. The mass was over and there was just one thing left to be done: To check if the little basil had resisted. We went to the parking lot and I saw my father taking the flowerpot from the backseat of the car. Even if it looked fragile and dull, the seedling was alive, meaning that The Judge was alive and well, even if her location was still unknown. Tired and relieved because of everything that had happened, I fell on my knees while watching my parents return the basil to it’s owners. The red dust gave new colors to the hem of my dress while The Judge's parents took the small plant to their car, parked far away from mine. We could still see their silhouettes when I heard a cellphone ring. And even with the distance, all I could recognize was the body language of a mother that receives good news.


End file.
